I Know
by Kaslyna
Summary: My first IPS fic! :D Post 'Fish or Cut Betta'. A long Marshall/Mary AU story. :D You know what to do, please read and review! Rated 'T' for now.
1. Silence

**A/N: Wow. I mean, just... wow. In one week I have almost finished In Plain Sight. I have one and a half more episodes left. :/ So this is why I am writing. It is AU of course; some canon stuff, some spoilers, but mainly AU. You'll see. Marshall/Mary with a hint of Raph/Mary. And Raph, God I hate him (because he reminds me that I'm the only person failing Spanish in my class) but he's not evil. Mary's birthday, from what I've gathered, is February 7, 1971. I'm playing with dates a lot though. The drive time mentioned is a guess; my family drove from Albuquerque to Phoenix (near Cave Creek) but I forget the exact time.**

**Disclaimer: In Plain Sight belongs to John McNamara and USA Network. I own nothing.**

* * *

"_There are times when silence has the loudest voice."_

_~Leroy Brownlow_

* * *

She remembers a lot and sometimes this is good. But right now it's just irritating. She remembers the day Raph left her. It was February 26, 2010. She remembers when they pulled a quickie. It was March 30, 2010.

She remembers the last time she heard from him. April 10, 2010; things with his new girlfriend, Amber (she thinks that's her name) are going very well. Last time he called her she snapped, finally, and told him to leave her the hell alone.

He understood. And that just made her furious.

It is now ten days later and she sits at her desk in the office.

"You hungry?" Marshall asks. He's been distanced, protective lately. And that pisses her off for God knows why.

"Yeah," she agrees. Trying not to get upset.

"What for?"

She wrinkles her nose and decides, "That Mexican cafe down the street."

"Okay," he nods his agreement.

They sit and eat. It's obvious that there is a lot on Mary's mind and Marshall waits patiently for her. Finally she sighs.

"I'm scared," she whispers.

"Why?" he asks.

"Nothing," she shakes her head, sighing, standing.

She leaves. He pays and follows. They say nothing.

* * *

He watches her. She feels his eyes.

Yet she says nothing.

Mary has found out that there are several different types of silence.

There's scary silence, adrenaline-filled silence, eerie silence, sad silence, awkward silence, oppressive silence, comfortable silence.

It's as if the air has a personality of its own.

Mary groans internally.

She is going insane.

* * *

It's in these spaces of silence that Mary has an epiphany.

She wishes to shock and amaze Raph. Make him regret leaving her. She has a goal now. She does not drink. She needs a clear head. She runs a lot, eats well, too well. She knows she is scaring Marshall.

She's sorry.

But she's not sorry, too.

It is as she is running one early morning that she realizes how lonely she is. That Raph's moved on so why the hell can't she?

She smiles. A spring is in her step.

From the silence she has grown.

* * *

It's the five month anniversary of her getting shot. April 22. She lies awake on her bed, absently tracing the faint pink scar on her tummy. Her fingers are feather-light over the roughly curving ridge. From an inch above her right hip, curving slightly, eloquently, to the left, curling around her belly button. On the back, a smaller scar, a mirror image of the one on her front, a little higher, though.

There's a tattoo of a yin-yang in the place south and between her breasts, right where her ribs part slightly and end. She had gotten it as a freshman in college on a dare while drunk and it's fascinated her lovers ever since.

Now she looks at it and the years it represents. The house is quiet. Brandi is gone, Jinx is gone. Raph is gone. Peter is gone.

The silence screams at her. It screams the truth. It screeches, like a banshee, nails scratching at her eardrums. Accusing, scornful. Disapproving.

Clawing, clawing, the silence forcing its way into her. Taking over her.

Saying so little, yet saying so, so much.

* * *

They have to transport a witness from Cave Creek, Arizona the next day. Actually, witnesses. Davis Roth, Sherry Roth, and their daughter, Lily Roth. The drive takes eight hours each way. Davis and Sherry are asleep quickly and seven-year-old Lily is bored. She is listening to her iPod and Marshall is talking to her and Mary is driving, trying to make it as far as possible before they stop for the night. They stop in Holbrook, Arizona, just outside of the Petrified Wood National Forest. They eat a quick dinner at Pizza Hut and then check in; two rooms. Mary claims the bed nearest the door and listens to the sound of coyotes and the desert rainstorm.

"Marshall?"

"What?"

"I want to go home," she says simply. Then she begins to cry.

"I know," he whispers softly, "Believe me, Mary, I know."


	2. Blind

**A/N: Well I'm depressed and PMS-y. So ignore me if I get pissy. It's not fun believe me. My mom has actually tried to have me arrested 3 times for PMS. :/ Ah don't ask. XD**

**Disclaimer: In Plain Sight belongs to John McNamara and USA Network. I own nothing but these damn teenaged hormones.**

* * *

"_Because you're not what I would have you be, I blind myself to who, in truth, you are."_

_~Madeleine L'Engle_

* * *

There have been times in Mary's life in which she has been blind. Who among us has not been blind before? She thought Raph loved her, that she loved him. Yet she didn't, so why did his abandonment sting? Thinking about it, the only constant in her life had been Marshall. He had been the refuge in the storm that was her; he'd stand tall and protective a thousand years and she would always cling to him.

This sudden truth hit her while she was working one day. She thought about it. It was true. It was true that she had blinded herself to who Raph really was.

And in the process, unknowingly hurt Marshall. She looks at him, imagines what he must have felt.

She sighs. She'll make it up to him when she isn't feeling so damn tired.

* * *

Mary invites him to have dinner at her place. Jinx will be there, too, but it'll be fine. He agrees and she goes home early to get stuff to cook. Pretty soon there's a semi-edible lasagna done cooking and he's over. They eat and talk and laugh and it's so normal it scares Mary.

Jinx goes home early so Marshall and Mary watch a movie that they've found on TV. It's 27 Dresses and Mary is making snarky comments and Marshall is laughing and it's just them again. He leaves at around eleven and she bathes and settles into her bed soon afterwards.

She sighs and falls into a fitful slumber until her alarm blares obnoxiously at eight. She groans but gets up, showers, dresses, and eats a breakfast of Fruit Loops and orange juice.

Then Mary goes to work.

* * *

Their newest witnesses don't need much. They're pretty nice, actually, easy to deal with, not whiny, really. Even still they check up on them. They insist they are fine and that's that.

So they eat lunch at a small Italian place and discuss everything under the sun. It's nice to be them again.

Without Raph she can see she's been blind far too long.

* * *

Mary gets home exhausted at the end of the day. She collapses in her bed.

She wakes a few hours later to the sound of someone... two people, actually. She grabs her gun and goes into the living room to find Brandi and some other dude laughing.

"The hell?" she growls.

"I'm back," Brandi singsongs, "Mary, this is Scott. He's our half-brother!"

"Good for him!" she snaps, "Let me sleep in my own God-damn house, please."

Brandi nods. Scott's going to sleep on the couch she's sure, and she's too tired to care. Mary leaves them.

Truth be told she really does not give a fuck.

* * *

Mary's up early; she showers, dresses, and is eating her breakfast (a waffle and coffee) when Brandi pads in. Scott, as predicted, is sound asleep on her couch.

"We'll talk about this later, Squish," she says. Brandi nods.

"I'm going to see Peter today."

"Great," Mary snorts, rolling her eyes, "Hey, if you see Raph, do you mind telling him he's an asshole?"

Brandi raises an eyebrow and Mary clarifies, "Squish he broke up with me."

"Oh," Brandi nods, a little awkwardly, "I'm, um, I'm sorry?"

"Yeah."

There's an awkward pause. Mary sighs, finishes, and is on her way to work fast.

One of her witnesses, Paulette McKinley, and her twin sister, Juliette McKinley, wait for her. As usual the twins are sitting too close in matching outfits, despite the fact that they are thirty. Mary sighs and rolls her eyes. She doesn't really like these two.

She prays for it to be over quickly.

* * *

Mary is sitting in the loaner from Peter listening to the radio when Marshall knocks on the window. He slides in beside her and they don't speak. She's not sure what song is on; she thinks maybe it's Breathe by Anna Nalick but she can't be quite sure.

"Pretty song," he says finally.

"Yup," she nods slowly in agreement.

"Look, I heard Brandi's back..."

"Yeah, she is."

"Well, if you need help..."

"Thank you."

With that she leaves. He sighs and watches her go.

He wishes the silence wouldn't last.

She wishes she hadn't been blind for so damned long.


	3. Healing

**A/N: I AM SO SORRY. D: I'm trying okay? D: I'm so sorry if this is boring, slow, fast, etc. I'll try to make it better. :P Might up to M, too. ;) And I'll definitely, if I time-skip, probably put in a story of filler oneshots. :D Which I probably will. Because I really want to get on with the story. _ Sorry. :/**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing. :/**

* * *

"_Forgiving does not erase the bitter past. A healed memory is not a deleted memory. Instead, forgiving what we cannot forget creates a new way to remember. We change the memory of our past into a hope for our future."  
_

_~Lewis B. Smedes _

* * *

"Mary?" he asks hesitantly when he finds her curled in a ball in the bathroom, "You okay?"

She nods and laughs nervously. She had gotten back from lunch, having gone to a doctor's appointment.

"What is it?" he murmurs, gently crouching beside her.

She bites her lower lip and turns away, tears streaming down her face as she swallows and admits, "I'm pregnant."

His eyes widen in shock, "How far along?"

"Um... I know I'm due Christmas Eve day?" she says in lieu of an explanation, then shrugs, "Dammit Marshall... I can't be a mom. I just can't."

"It's okay, Mare," he says softly, "It's okay if you can't. No one will ever blame you for it."

She nods, "I know. But what if in a few years I'm ready? I won't be able to have kids... I'm getting older, Marshall."

He grins wearily, "You're still young to me."

She smiles back softly and kisses his cheek, "I know. Thanks."

He nods, "You gonna tell him?"

"No," she says, "I can't. He's moved on. Probably did before we even broke up."

"I'm sorry," he says softly, "You deserve so much better, Mary. You deserve every damn cliché about romance."

She smirks, "Flattery will get you nowhere."

He nods, "I know."

She throws her head back and laughs, swiping at her eyes, "God. First I was a mess, now I'm a pregnant mess."

He sits beside her, "Mary. Take it a day at a time, okay?"

She nods, "Okay."

They sit like that for a while, against the toilet, her head resting on his shoulder and one of his hands atop hers on her muscular belly. They talk in hushed murmurs, and he absently rubs their joined hands on her stomach. She's smiling and beautiful and sad and tragic all at once. He wishes to take her pain away, but Marshall knows he cannot.

* * *

A week later she's staring at her fourteen week ultrasound, smiling softly; the doctor wanted to do regular ultrasounds early on because of her age. One hand rests on her tummy, and she can't help it, this love she feels right now. If you didn't know she was pregnant, you couldn't really see it; she'd grown a tad plumper, and her breasts were growing, but other than that, there was no real change in Mary Shannon.

"Is that the baby?" Marshall asks, and she nods, not wanting to tear her eyes off the photograph of the child residing within her body.

"Beautiful," she murmurs.

"Have you decided..." he hesitates, then begins again, "Have you decided... what to do yet, Mare?"

"I'm keeping this kid," she says, "Pretty little thing."

He smiled and clapped a hand down on her shoulder, "Well. Back to work, eh?"

She nods, "Mhmmmm."

* * *

By week nineteen, Marshall and Mary find themselves on her couch pouring over baby name books and pregnancy books. By now Mary's started to show; her doctor says at her age it's normal to be a little bigger than most pregnant women get. She's laughing with one hand on her slightly ballooned stomach.

"How about this name for a girl? Alexandra," he suggests.

"I like that," she agrees, grinning, "When I pop this kid out, I want you to name her or him, okay?"

He nods, "Thanks."

"Yup," she says, chuckling, "Dibs on her middle name. Or his."

"Can you tell yet?" he asks.

She shrugs, "Honestly? I don't care. Long as this spawn's healthy."

He laughed and shook his head, "God help that kid."

"Hey!" she growls, smacking him gently on the arm, "Rule One about dealing with a trigger-happy pregnant woman..."

"Don't make jokes about her," he repeats, rolling his eyes and sighing, "Yeah. I know."

"Good Marshall," she smirks and he laughs.

"You're a piece of work, Mare."

"I'm hungry," she pouts, "Feed us, dammit."

"What do you want?"

"Cucumbers. In yogurt."

"Jesus, Mary," he groans, "Do you really gotta be a cliched pregnant woman, too?"

"Please Marshall?" she begs, fluttering her eyelashes at him. He huffs, muttering under his breath and rolling his eyes and he stands and goes to the kitchen.

"I don't get paid enough for this," he growls and she laughs, smirking and rolling her own eyes.

"Shut up, slave," she says, "Feed us."

Fifteen minutes later they're laughing and casually joking and teasing and throwing food. Mary goes into the bedroom and changes while he cleans up; she kisses his cheek on the way out.

"Bye, Mare," he says softly.

"Bye," she nods, smiling firmly as she gently eases the door closed.

She sighs and plops down into the bed and falls asleep. Thirty minutes or so later she's awoken by giggling; Brandi and Scott. She groans and rolls her eyes in frustration, slipping out of the bed.

"Dammit, we're trying to sleep," she groans, padding into the living room.

"Sorry," Brandi pouts apologetically, "Sorry too, junior."

Mary smiles weakly, sighs, and sits herself next to Brandi, who moves instinctively closer to Scott. Mary leans back and closes her eyes shut.

"Where'd you guys go?" she mumbles sleepily, yawning.

"Club," Brandi grins, and Mary glares.

"Dammit, Brandi. You know I can't drink," she growls.

Brandi pouts, "I know, I know. I'm sorry, Mary."

"It's alright."

And it was, it really, truly, was.


	4. Over and Over

**A/N: Sometimes my brain utterly annoys me.**

**Disclaimer: Same as always. :/**

By her sixth month it was painfully obvious that Mary was indeed pregnant; she was now on desk duty, which meant, no witness visits. It was great at first, but then it got boring. Thankfully, Marshall took one look at her reorganizing files for the billionth time that day and allowed her to accompany him to a witness she really liked, Morgan Brown; she was Mary's witness, and as Mary had been on desk duty for almost a month now, that meant Marshall and the new Inspector from Dallas were taking care of her witnesses, which she accepted with wary reluctance.

Morgan was twenty-nine, and her abusive ex-boyfriend used to sell meth; Morgan had been in an explosion while he was making it, and that had been the final straw. Morgan had then proceeded to go into WitSec so she could testify against him. His name was Leo Isaacs, and he had a new girlfriend, Carmen Richards, who was a con artist of sorts and had it out for Morgan. Morgan had lived in San Francisco for three years before being transferred to Albuquerque a year and a half ago.

"Mary! I didn't know you were coming," Morgan exclaimed, excitedly squeezing Mary, "Marshall hasn't told me where you've been, but now I see! Congratulations."

Mary nodded, "Thanks, Morgan."

"Come in. Are you hungry?" asks Morgan as she leads them inside.

"She usually is," Marshall replies, earning a glare from Mary; he smiled cheekily back at her and she huffed, rolling her eyes.

"Yeah well, it's not like I'm trying to be hungry," Mary mumbles.

Morgan laughed and turned to ask, "Well, Mary. What do you want?"

"Anything," she replied smartly, "Mind if I use your bathroom?"

Morgan nods, "Down the hall to the left."

"Yeah, yeah, I know," Mary grumbles.

"How far along is she?" Morgan asks Marshall.

"Around six months," he shrugs, "She won't tell me exactly."

"I'm assuming it's not yours?" Morgan quirks an eyebrow and Marshall blushes furiously.

"No," he shakes his head vehemently, "No, it's Mary's ex-fiance's kid. She was sick of desk duty, so I took pity on her by bringing her by. Hope you don't mind."

"Not at all," Morgan replies with a casual grin, starting the stove, "I'm making grilled cheese. I don't really know why, but oh well."

Marshall chuckles, "That's so you."

"I'm back. What's that smell?" they turn to see Mary waddling in, something Marshall has yet to get used to.

"Grilled cheese with tomato and bacon," Morgan says, humming, "My mom used to make it for me when I was sick as a little girl. It's the one thing I've yet to let go."

"Well," Mary sits beside Marshall, "Better hope Leo and Carmen didn't know your mom, then."

Morgan shakes her head, "Oh, God. No, even I had enough sense not to bring Leo home, and I'd only met Carmen once or twice: she was a regular customer. You know how it is."

"Second hand knowledge, I suppose," Mary replies coolly.

The TV was on low as they ate, a news station; a car commercial for Peter's dealership came on, and Mary ignored it, until of course, Raph's familiar voice came on; then she turned. He was doing the ad with the woman she'd seen him with- Amber something or other, a name that surely fit a stripper better than the girlfriend of a washed-up baseball player. Marshall could read clearly the pain on Mary's face and wanted nothing more than to hurt Raph for doing this to her. But Mary had made her choice, and he was going to respect it, even though it was killing him inside knowing she was hurting so much.

"That's him, isn't it?" Morgan asked quietly, and Marshall nodded, his hand covering Mary's, knowing that even if she hurt him for it, she needed a tether to reality.

"I'm okay," Mary tries to assure herself, taking a shaky breath, "I'm going to the car."

She got up and left; Morgan went to follow her but Marshall placed a hand gently on her arm and said, "Don't. Let me."

Morgan nodded, "I'm sorry."

"It's okay. She made her choice," he sighed, wearily scrubbing a hand over his face, "Anyways. Are you okay?"

"Yeah," Morgan nodded, "I'll call if I need anything."

"Thanks."

"No problem," Morgan grinned as she showed him out, "Go. Mary needs you more than I do right now."

Marshall finds Mary in the car, staring into space, tears streaming silently out of her eyes, and he knows she's holding back, holding it all in, and he climbs into the car beside her and gently places a hand on her shoulder, waiting for her. Finally Mary takes a deep, shaky breath, and lets it out in a great, gulping sob from somewhere deep within her. Marshall gently hugs her to him and she buries her face into his shoulder and cries.

"I shouldn't," she's trying to calm herself, steady her breathing, "I shouldn't feel this way."

"Mare..."

"What does this make me? What if I'm not doing the right thing? What am I, Marshall?"

"You're human," he whispers softly, "You're doing what's best for you, and for this baby. You're human, Mary. Let it out. It's okay. I won't judge you. I'm human, too..."

She nodded vigorously, whispering, "Thank you."

They drove back to the office in silence.

* * *

Stan said nothing when they came in; he wanted to, but he'd seen Mary's defeated gait and Marshall's protective look and knew, instantly, that whatever the hell happened was probably punishment enough for these two. He wouldn't ask, because they wouldn't tell him, but the least he could do was not berate Marshall for taking Mary along into a potentially dangerous situation.

"How was Morgan?" he asked casually.

"Fine," responded Marshall, warily glancing at Mary, "We chatted, had lunch at her place."

Mary nodded, "Yeah... it was fine."

Stan looks between the two, sighs, and replies, "No more witnesses, Mary. I'm asking you as a friend, not your boss, please do not go where it could be dangerous."

To his utter surprise she goes, "Okay, okay."

"You feeling okay?"

Mary rolls her eyes, "Peachy. But lugging a kid around isn't too much fun, and add on whiny witnesses... well, I'll be fine. Thanks, though, Marshall."

He nods, "Yep. I promise I won't do it again, Stan, really."

Stan replies, "Well, as long as I have your word on it. Mary? I could use some help organizing MOU's..."

Mary nods, quickly waddling to him, "Okay. Sure."

Marshall watches them walk off with a weary sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose lightly. Mary had been this way for a while, sad, defeated, but her doctor assured them that these moods were totally normal, but that Marshall should keep a close eye on her, just in case. Still, he knew Mary wasn't stupid, and even as stubborn as she was, she'd tell him before things got too serious for her to handle on her own.

Wouldn't she?


End file.
